


Savor With Me

by sparkandwolf (thatnerdemryn)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Accidental Kissing, Accidental Relationship, Alpha Derek Hale, Canon Universe, Cuddling & Snuggling, Everyone Thinks They're Together, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Oblivious Derek Hale, Oblivious Stiles Stilinski, Pack Bonding, Pack Movie Nights, Platonic Cuddling, The Pack Ships It, accidental scent marking, this entire fic was an accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23638849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatnerdemryn/pseuds/sparkandwolf
Summary: Stiles wasn’t sure when the change had happened; when they could sit together and not want to punch the other, when they actually seemed to authentically enjoy the other’s company. When he went to leave, Stiles was extremely aware of the lack of warmth Derek had provided to him throughout the night.Or, 5 times Stiles doesn't notice how close he's become to Derek and 1 time he savors it.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 27
Kudos: 690
Collections: Sterek Goodness





	Savor With Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first 5+1 fic and it was entirely accidental. I hope you enjoy!

**1.**

“Derek,” Stiles said, amusement filling his voice, “are you finally allowing me to sit on the couch? Is that… Is that space for me?” Stiles waved around at the rest of the pack filling up other pieces of furniture that had been slowly dragged into his loft as he refused to get any himself. Scott and Allison were cuddled up on a chair Scott had convinced his mother to let him steal, Isaac, Boyd, and Erica were squished into a loveseat beside the couch with Cora spread across all of their laps and Lydia and Jackson were on the opposite end of the couch, Lydia perched on Jackson’s lap. 

Derek rolled his eyes and glared in their direction. “This seat was supposed to be for Lydia, but apparently, no one in this pack can keep their hands off of each other long enough to keep the usual seating arrangements,” Derek grumbled. Stiles let out a joyous laugh and launched onto the cushion next to him, reaching for the popcorn he had on his lap. Derek pulled it away, some spilling over the side in an attempt to keep the snack from Stiles. 

“You don’t have to keep your hands off of me either, Der-Bear,” Stiles cooed as he shoved into Derek’s side. Stiles wouldn’t have done that even a few months prior, but after everything the pack had been through and all the times Derek and Stiles didn’t let each other die, he figured he’d earned a little bit of teasing. 

“I never want to hear that nickname again,” Derek warned, but his arm was wrapping around Stiles’ shoulder and pulling him closer as he hit play on the movie. Stiles didn’t think anything of it as he looked around at all of his other friends, entangled in the most intimate ways like it was normal. He thought that maybe it was their new normal and shrugged, letting himself lean into Derek just a little more. 

**2.**

It was only a few weeks later during another pack movie night when it happened again. Scott had decided the pack bonding needed to occur monthly, so they had all spent the night in Derek’s loft. He didn’t have quite enough spare bedrooms, but they made due on whatever piece of furniture could house them and on the blow up mattresses Stiles bought for the specific purpose of pack sleepovers. 

Derek had woken up first, like he always did, and Stiles followed soon after. He didn’t find himself sleeping much, his mind riddled with nightmares even when he did finally sleep, so even the smallest noise of Derek rummaging through the cabinets in the kitchen was enough to stir him. He stretched, wiped a hand down his face as a lame attempt to get rid of the tiredness he knew ghosted it, and stood up from his deflated mattress. 

“Mornin’,” Stiles mumbled as he shuffled into the kitchen. Derek must have heard him coming because he held out a cup of coffee, filled with cream and sugar just like Stiles had liked it, and grumbled his own semblance of a greeting. Almost instinctively, Stiles nuzzled into Derek’s side in thanks and pressed his face into Derek’s solid shoulder. He hummed, the smell of coffee and Derek overwhelming his senses. He looked up at Derek, just a bit of surprise on his features that Derek wasn’t pushing him away. He figured they both must have been sleepwalking, but then Derek looked down at him and they both smiled like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

**3.**

It was only a matter of time before another big bad swooped its way into their lives. Of course, because when isn’t Stiles the butt of the joke, it had to mask itself as an entirely too good looking substitute teacher that Stiles spent a few nights fantasizing about. He couldn’t really help it. The man was gorgeous; dark and messy hair, broad shoulders, bulging biceps and rock hard abs from what Stiles could see underneath his deliciously see through button down shirts. Stiles didn’t realize that was his type until Mr. Lewis strode into his AP chemistry class and knocked Stiles’ breath away. 

“Mr. Stilinski, can I have a word?” Mr. Lewis asked, cocking an eyebrow at Stiles. If he didn’t know any better, it seemed like a proposition, and one that Stiles was not about to turn down. Every ethical thought in his mind went out the window when it came to his virginity and Mr. Lewis. Scott gave him a thumbs up as he left, slamming the door shut behind him. 

“You can have all the words, really. I do have the ability to stop talking,” Stiles rambled, realizing that maybe that wasn’t all true. “How can I help--” Before he could finish, Mr. Lewis was pressed up against him, his back to the chalkboard at the front of the classroom, an incredibly long tongue swiping up his neck. Stiles was too distracted to focus on the fact that his tongue was, in fact, entirely too long to be human. 

“I smell him on  _ you _ more than the others, Stiles,” Mr. Lewis hissed as his fingers grabbed at Stiles’ chin and forced Stiles to look away, baring his neck. “Erica, Isaac, Boyd, sure. They share his scent, they spend time with him, wherever he inhabits, but you…” He sniffed, a long, slow sniffle that had Stiles’ skin tingling and not in the way he would have liked. “You smell like  _ his _ .” The words were punctuated with a snarl and Stiles felt the hot breath ghosting over the pulsing beat in his neck. 

“Let him  _ go _ !” Derek’s voice was there in an instant and the prickling in his skin disappeared as Mr. Lewis was pulled off of him and thrown against the wall to the back of the classroom. Stiles finally saw the sharp teeth, split tongue, and all black eyes and suddenly felt like he was going to faint. Derek was at his side in a moment, his arm wrapping around his waist to stop him from sliding down the wall. His hand threaded through Stiles’ hair and pulled his head into his chest, Stiles leaning into the touch and closing his eyes. Stiles’ wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist, ignoring the snarls and growls behind him as he used the steady beat of Derek’s heart against his ear to calm him. 

When the noises stopped, Stiles chanced a glance up. Derek rested his forehead against Stiles’ and took a deep breath, shaking his head. Stiles reached up and rested his palm on Derek’s cheek and answered the question he knew Derek wanted to ask. 

“I’m okay. Mr. Lewis, as much as I might have wanted him to, didn’t get a chance to touch me,” Stiles joked. He felt the low growl in Derek’s chest and let out a small chuckle as he patted it, batting his eyelashes up at Derek. “Relax, sourwolf. I told you I’m  _ okay _ .” Derek closed his eyes and breathed Stiles in, deeply and thoroughly. Stiles couldn’t stop thinking about if Derek smelled their scents mixing the way that Mr. Lewis did. 

“Your dad is on his way, Stiles. You should probably…” Scott gestured to the two of them and Stiles furrowed his eyebrows when Derek shot up and away from him. He grabbed at Derek’s hand, feeling more panicked than he wanted, still stirred up from almost being killed again. Derek turned back toward him and pulled him into his side as his dad arrived, breathing heavily with his gun drawn. One look around the demolished classroom and he sighed, holstering the weapon before glancing at Stiles. His eyes darted to Stiles’ hand in Derek’s before he pulled Stiles into a hug. Stiles didn’t let go of Derek, even though he thought he should have. 

“Why are you always the one getting attacked, kid?” Stiles wanted to say something sarcastic about him being the weakest link, the one human in a pack of supernaturals, practically a celebrity in the world of being kidnapped. He didn’t, though, because that wasn’t the case anymore. Mr. Lewis had wanted him because of Derek and that was something he didn’t feel like admitting out loud just yet. He focused instead on the soft circles Derek thumbed on the back of his hand and the overwhelming sense of peace that it brought. 

**4.**

Stiles chose to not think about the close call with Mr. Lewis for the next few weeks. He threw himself into planning pack events and spending as much time as he could with Derek. He didn’t make a conscious choice to spend more time with Derek, but he didn’t exactly stop himself from knocking on the door of the loft most nights either. Derek let him in each and every time, even when Stiles wasn’t sure he wanted the company. 

“I brought you pizza. Dad wasn’t in the mood for it, so I came here,” Stiles explained when Derek opened the door with a scowl on his face. It didn’t disappear as quickly as it usually did, but Stiles forced himself inside, plopping the pizza down on the counter before reaching for two plates in the cabinet. Stiles heard the door slide closed and smiled to himself, knowing Derek was going to let him stay. 

“What kind of pizza?” Derek asked as he sat down on one of the mismatched stools Stiles and Scott had found at a yard sale a few months prior. Stiles opened the box and placed two pieces on each plate before handing one to Derek. 

“Meat lovers,” Stiles said happily, knowing it was one of Derek’s favorites. He sat in the stool next to Derek and scooted it a bit closer so their shoulders and thighs were pressed together. He smiled at Derek, a wide grin that seemed to be specifically for Derek lately. What caught him off guard was Derek’s soft smile back at him. Derek leaned into him further and, to Stiles’ annoyance, let out a throaty moan as he took his first bite. Stiles had to bite down on his lip to stop himself from groaning at the sound. He thought Derek might have noticed when he shot another sideways glance at Stiles. 

“You got a meat lovers pizza for your dad?” Derek asked, the smirk on his face evident in his voice. Stiles went to respond, something sarcastic probably, but Derek was right. He would never buy the artery clogging, heart attack waiting to happen dinner for his dad. Instead of analyzing it, Stiles reached over, grabbed Derek’s plate, and pushed it over to the far end of the counter. Derek leaned over him, grumbling insults that had Stiles laughing until Derek’s shirt pushed up on his back and Stiles saw the smooth skin and lean muscle. He choked on his pizza. “Are you okay?” Derek asked, the concern evident in his voice. If only he knew what Stiles was thinking. Stiles bet there wouldn’t be any worry if he did, so he waved Derek off and took a large sip from his soda. 

“I’m-- Good, yeah, fine,” Stiles stuttered as Derek rested a hand between his shoulders and rubbed slowly. The touch was soft, gentle pats as Stiles drank down more of the liquid, trying and mostly failing to compose himself. He nodded quickly and breathed in deeply to refill his lungs before picking up his slice again. Stiles figured Derek would move his hand, but instead, it wandered to the small of his back and stayed as they talked. 

Later in the night, Stiles was entirely too aware of the change in them. He sat next to Derek on the couch, just the two of them side by side. Derek’s arm was heavy on his shoulder for most of the movie and when it wasn’t, it was because it was resting on his knee, squeezing as he laughed or shoving at Stiles’ shoulder when he said something stupid. Stiles wasn’t sure when the change had happened; when they could sit together and not want to punch the other, when they actually seemed to authentically  _ enjoy _ the other’s company. When he went to leave, Stiles was extremely aware of the lack of warmth Derek had provided to him throughout the night. 

**5.**

Mornings after pack bonding night were rough for everyone on a normal day, but Scott figured everyone needed one after their weekend run in with a succubus that left everyone drained. Monday morning came and no one wanted to get out of their respective sleeping spaces. Derek had to drag Erica off of the chair she’d slumped over in and Stiles was slapped twice, once by Allison who profusely apologized and once by Cora who didn’t really care. When everyone had woken up, Derek and Stiles worked together to make breakfast, an intensely domestic task that neither of them batted an eyelash at. Stiles would roll up a dish towel and smack Derek’s ass and in return, Derek would spray him with water from the dishes he was cleaning. 

“Is everyone ready to go?” Stiles yelled through the loft. There were a mixture of passive agreements and groans as Stiles slid open the door to the loft. He rolled his eyes and waved everyone through the doors, counting them off like toddlers. Derek was the last to the door, arms crossed over his chest, and an amused look on his face. Stiles glared at him as his own sleepiness started to get to him. 

“What? I finished high school four years ago, I deserve to watch you all suffer,” Derek said as Stiles walked out the door. Stiles sighed heavily and he wasn’t sure why, but he took a step closer to Derek. 

“Even me?” Stiles said, more flirtation in his tone than he had expected. Derek nodded and raised his eyebrows, tilting his head. 

“Especially you,” Derek shot back. Stiles smacked his arm before leaning in and placing a soft, chaste kiss on Derek’s lip. When he pulled back, he smiled warmly at him and wandered over to the rest of the pack. 

“We’ll see you later, Der,” Stiles shouted as he led them down the stairs. He laughed as Scott stumbled over his feet, clearly not awake enough for the amount of effort needed to descend the staircase. Lydia was holding onto the railing with all she had in her, her knuckles almost white from the grip as she slid down. Everyone had their feet shuffling, unable to fully pick them up, but Stiles had an unusual skip in his step. When they reached the lot, it felt like death flooded over him and Stiles froze. His feet dug into the gravel and he gasped, the noise seeming to jolt his friends wide awake. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Lydia screeched, holding a hand to her head. Stiles looked at his friend’s casual faces and gaped at them. 

“Did I just kiss Derek?” They all nodded in unison, apparently unconcerned with the fact. Stiles looked up at Derek’s window, to his car, and back at his friends. “I just…” He ran both hands over his face, scrubbing at it before his fingers pressed to his lips. He thought back to the nonchalant way he had leaned in, how Derek himself didn’t see anything weird about the gesture, the softness of the kiss itself. He just had his first kiss with Derek and… no one cared? “How are none of you freaking out about this?” Stiles yelled to his friends who were walking in the direction of their cars. 

Scott turned his head as he threw his leg across his motorbike. “Why are  _ you _ freaking out about this?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. Stiles waved his hands erratically and was about to explain when Erica piped up from the passenger's seat of Boyd’s car. 

“We all know you two have been sleeping together. We can smell him on you almost every day,” Erica said casually as she pushed her sunglasses up her nose. Stiles inhaled sharply and closed his eyes. He felt a hand on his shoulder and opened them to see Isaac in front of him. 

“The pack is cool with it, Stiles, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Stiles didn’t have time to thank him for their unneeded consent as he was too busy groaning and staring up at the sky. 

“We haven’t even-- What are you-- We’ve never even--” Stiles couldn’t get his words out, all stutters and hisses as he paced back and forth, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “We haven’t even  _ kissed _ yet!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. Mostly everyone stifled their giggles, Scott opting to rev his engine and clear out of the parking lot, his laughter echoing over the sound of his bike. 

“Well, I mean, you just did,” Erica said with a shrug as Boyd started driving. Isaac waved him down and hopped in the back seat, sending a sympathetic glance at Stiles. He was alone in the lot, his feet kicking at the gravel as he debated his next move.

He figured he should go up to the loft, apologize profusely and hope that Derek didn’t punch him for attacking him with his lips. He fucking kissed Derek and he didn’t even let himself savor it. Had he wanted to savor it? From what he remembered, it was not the worst first kiss they could have had. It wasn’t under the extreme duress of a bad guy or when Stiles was too drunk to remember it, so he couldn’t be too angry. It could have been worse, he tried to keep reminding himself. He sighed heavily, running his hands over his face again, only for his fingertips to linger on his lips once more. 

It made sense, really, that he would kiss Derek. Stiles had noticed it, of course he had, the way that he and Derek seemed to be getting closer, the initial annoyance gone from both of their systems. They made  _ sense _ in some weird way that Stiles hadn’t really let himself think about. Derek was the calm to his storm, the rough edges to Stiles’ perfectly crafted circle. When Stiles wouldn’t stop talking, Derek shot him a look, one look to get his mouth to shut. When Derek was angry beyond control, one touch from Stiles seemed to placate his wolf. It was all of the proof Stiles needed to turn back toward the door. 

When he did, he was surprised to see Derek in the doorway, his chest heaving like he had just sprinted down the stairs. “Derek, I--” 

“Shut up,” Derek nearly growled as he took four long strides to reach Stiles. Stiles opened his mouth, about to apologize for whatever had made Derek so angry, but he couldn’t. Because Derek’s mouth connected with his in the hottest kiss Stiles had ever been a part of. It was messy, definitely not as chaste as their goodbye earlier, but Stiles didn’t care. He grabbed onto Derek’s hair, threading his fingers through the softness to tug him even closer. It was like fire erupted through Stiles’ entire body, his skin tingling with every touch as Derek ran a hand under his shirt to rest against the center of his back. Derek’s other hand grasped at the back of Stiles’ neck, tilting his head up to deepen the kiss even further. 

If Stiles thought Derek’s gentle touches were heaven, he didn’t know how to describe that kiss. His head spun with every bite to his bottom lip, every swipe of Derek’s tongue against his and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. When he finally pulled back enough to take a breath, Derek followed him, both of them stumbling back into the door of the jeep. Derek pressed his hips to Stiles and the pleasure of it seemed to snap him back into reality. He pressed his hands to Derek’s chest and pushed softly enough that Derek seemed to snap back, too. 

“We should talk about this…” Stiles said, pretty unconvincingly. Derek cleared his throat and attempted to take a step back, but Stiles pulled him closer by his jacket and smiled up at him.

“If we’re going to talk, I need to… back away,” Derek said weakly. Stiles heard the nervousness in the way his voice cracked and had a hard time believing it was for him. 

“Then we can keep kissing,” Stiles decided, nodding as he surged forward and pressed his lips to Derek’s again. And if he missed school to roll around in Derek’s bed all day, he had no regrets. 

**+1**

“Do you two have to be all over each other  _ all _ the time?” Lydia whined from her place on Jackson’s lap. Stiles rolled his eyes as he disentangled himself from Derek as he waited for the popcorn to finish in the microwave. He gestured toward the two of them in disgust. 

“Are you serious? Look at all of you!” He exclaimed. Lydia was practically straddling Jackson’s lap in the chair, Erica, Boyd, and Isaac were squished together on the loveseat, and Scott and Allison were on the couch, snuggled into each other’s sides with Cora’s feet spread across their laps. There were no more seats to be seen and Stiles sighed heavily. 

“I can’t believe I’m being exiled to the floor once again,” he muttered, sitting with his back against the couch. Cora rested a hand on his head and patted it, Stiles swatting it away in annoyance. When he saw Derek, all of the anger in his system seemed to flood away. Derek stopped and glanced around before releasing his own sigh. Stiles thought he would kick Cora out of his usual spot on the couch, but instead, he sat next to Stiles and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. 

“Is this okay?” He whispered as he pressed play, his lips brushing against the shell of Stiles’ ear. Stiles nodded and looked over at him, stunned. 

“You’re not going to move anyone?” Derek shook his head and pulled Stiles further into his side. Stiles shifted his hips to throw his legs over Derek’s, wrapping his arm around his waist. 

“No, I think I’m okay with this,” Derek replied. Stiles glanced up at him and Derek met his eyes. There was so much fondness in them, he didn’t know how to contain his joy. He leaned up and connected their lips in a gentle kiss before settling into him and turning toward the movie. “I don’t know why you always complained about the floor. It’s really not that bad,” Derek commented. Stiles laughed and slapped his stomach playfully. 

“It’s cause I always wanted to sit with you, idiot,” Stiles explained with a roll of his eyes. Derek pressed a kiss to his head and no more words were exchanged, the crashes from the movie barely noticeable to Stiles as he listened to Derek breathe. If someone told Stiles a few months prior that his new seat would be next to wherever his alpha was sitting, he probably wouldn’t have believed them. But with Derek pressed to his side, his hand stroking soothing circles into the skin of his shoulder, he would gladly take his seat on the floor. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [Tumblr](https://sparkandwolf.tumblr.com) specifically for my Sterek obsession so feel free to follow it for updates and snippets and other Sterek content and use my ask to send me prompts, coda ideas, or just scream with me about Sterek. 
> 
> Also, feel free to follow my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thatnerdemilyj) and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Please, please, please let me know your thought in the comments and leave kudos if you enjoyed it!


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